


Restless Nights

by phoebesmum



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-27
Updated: 2010-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:25:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebesmum/pseuds/phoebesmum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey and Lisa fight, and Dan … Dan is Dan is wonderful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlet written October 2009 from the slashthedrabble prompt _Fight_. Thanks to leiascully for vocabulary help!

It's four in the morning, and Casey is snoring gently. Dan's in the kitchen, drinking coffee. He won't be able to get back to sleep. Ever since he was a kid he couldn't, not once he'd been woken, and, besides, Casey's presence on his couch is … unsettling. Welcome, but definitely distracting. He'll get a head start on some writing, he thinks, pulls a notepad toward him, uncaps a pen, waits for inspiration.

This is happening more and more often. Casey and Lisa will have a fight, Casey will storm out (or Lisa will kick him out), and he'll take it for granted that he can run to Dan. It'd started back when Dan was still a student, only there'd been no couch in those days. He'd let Casey have the bed (if the sheets remained unchanged for far too long thereafter, that was nobody else's business), while Dan would retreat to the safe haven of his books, where decisions were easy and things made sense. Since the move to Dallas the problem's escalated; the late-night knock on the door seems to come every couple of weeks now. Dan doesn't know what the fights are about. He did ask, once, but Casey almost took his head off – which, Dan considers, took some nerve, given it's _his_ apartment Casey's using as a bolthole – and he's kept his mouth shut ever since.

He wishes he knew how to help. All his life Dan's hated to see anybody hurting; he's always done all he can to step in and fix whatever needs fixing. But Casey's made it clear this is none of Dan's business, so what can he do?

Dan blames Lisa. He doesn't know her well, but, if he thinks about it, he doesn't believe he's ever seen her smile, and every word she says seems to have a sarcastic bite. Which probably only means that she's unhappy too, but that's just tough. Maybe he's being unfair, maybe Lisa deserves sympathy just as much as Casey – maybe even more so – but, if so, she'll have to look elsewhere. If battle lines are to be drawn up, Dan knows where his loyalties lie. He's Casey's foot soldier, his to the bitter end.

No, the one Dan really does feel sorry for is Charlie. He knows only too well what it's like to live with parents perpetually at one another's throats: the constant tension in the air, the need to step softly, choose every word carefully. It's a lousy thing to do to a kid. He wishes he could tell Casey that.

Meanwhile, he'll do what little he can: keep his couch ready, clean bedding in the linen closet, beer in the fridge; accept, and never question. His shoulder is there for Casey to lean on, come what may.

And one day, he knows, he'll find out what the trouble is.

Maybe then he'll be able to fix it.

For now, there's coffee. And work.

Dan picks up his pen again, and begins to write.

***


End file.
